


There's Magic In A Bard's Song

by Rich_Ramblings



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Bureau of Balance - Freeform, Gen, Johann the sad bard, TAZ: Balance, The Adventure Zone Balance - Freeform, The Adventure Zone Balance Spoilers, moon base
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 23:44:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15012005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rich_Ramblings/pseuds/Rich_Ramblings
Summary: We aren't nobody





	There's Magic In A Bard's Song

When the three heroes destined to save the world, or rather, three of the heroes destined to save the world (Avi found himself bitter about that distinction in the years following the Day of Story and Song) arrived at the moon base, the cannon operator didn’t think much of them. He didn’t think little of them, either, but his first impressions were limited to what was almost a bulleted list in his mind:

• High maintenance elf

• Crunchy, fatherly dwarf

• Maybe a human lifting buddy?

Yet, despite himself, he offered them a drink. It was his way.

When he met with Johann for drinks that evening, he learned a little more about them.

“He tickled you?” He asked with surprise, rejoining his friend at their table, setting down two pints of brandy and a glass of water. Johann paused from unpacking his satchel to take a gulp of water before he returned to pulling out the tools to tune a lute, which lay on the table to his left.

“Piece of work, that guy. I think I bummed them out.” He shrugged. In a few minutes’ telling, Avi had the full account of the three newcomers and Johann’s trip to the Voidfish chamber, their inoculation, and the following erasure of Magic Brian. When Avi had heard about the latter, he immediately reserved his and Johann’s favorite booth at this, the moon base’s one and only bar. Johann was grateful; his worst days were those that included erasing someone’s existence from the world below. He had a tendency to self-project. Avi couldn’t blame him.

“’I’m the best violinist ever and no one’s gonna know who I am’?” Avi asked incredulously when Johann had finished recounting his day. Johann shrugged, not meeting his gaze. He took a sip from his mug of brandy, scowled a bit and set it aside to resume tuning his newest lute. He winced when he plucked a very much out of tune string, and set about tightening it.

“You think I’m not?” he asked nonchalantly. Avi shook his head, taking a much longer draw of his brandy and then reaching across the table for Johann’s. The bard glanced up for a moment but made no move to stop Avi.

“That isn’t what I said,” Avi replied, downing the rest of Johann’s drink and squeezing his eyes shut as tears sprung to them. Strong stuff. “But…No one? No one will know you? That’s what you think?”

Johann looked up again, and this time he held Avi’s gaze. A muscle tightened in his jaw. Avi hadn’t known the half-elf to be easily angered, so the small gesture sent shivers down his spine. He expected Johann to reply, but instead he let out a great sigh and laid the lute on the table, folding his arms together and resting his forehead on them. He was silent at length, and Avi watched him nervously. At last his words came, muffled and directed into the table.

“You know what they told me when I got the job? They said I’d be making a difference. They said my skills were needed. And then…And then when I got here, and I saw it, the Voidfish, but it wasn’t called that yet you know…When I saw it, I believed them. I wanted to believe them, at least. And maybe for the first few months I did but…” He sighed again and looked up at Avi. Despite his sullen nature, he wasn’t much for tears, and yet a few glittered within his lashes. “I am the best violinist ever, Avi. And I’m being wasted.”

It was Avi’s turn to feel angry. He wasn’t sure at what, but his chest and throat tightened and it was a second before he could compose himself to speak.

“You’re wrong.” He said simply as he stood up, chair scraping against the stone floor of the bar. The noise caught the attention of the other bar patrons, who looked over curiously. There weren’t many, but then again, not many folks worked for the Bureau of Balance. Avi knew them all, had shared drinks with them, had wept over fallen comrades, had rejoiced at the few victories. Clearing his throat, sweeping his gaze around the room again, he began to sing.

It was a song without words, and Avi wasn’t much of a vocalist, but he was loud, and he carried the tune as best he could. Johann’s eyes widened with recognition. Avi nodded as he continued to sing, glancing around the bar as others rose and joined in, some looking confused, some looking embarrassed, but most looking happy, happy to be part of something, Avi supposed. Comradery came in excess on the base.

In a few moments every patron was on their feet, belting out the wordless melody of Johann’s music, the very song that he’d fed the Voidfish earlier that day. Johann was proud, and he never gave the Voidfish anything he wasn’t wholly satisfied with, but this piece had been something more, something even greater. It’d been long nights of hearing individually plucked strings in the dorms, it’d been running into Johann as he hummed loudly, eyes closed as he strolled busy corridors, it’d been sitting in this very bar as he played different renditions that sounded identical to all but him. It had been last night, when he finally played it, a grim expression on his face as he knew it would be the last time he did. Avi could only imagine how much worse feeding it to the Voidfish was, compared to all his other works. Perhaps that’s what had spurred his unusual honesty with three people he’d never met.

As the song ended on one long, low note, applause started breaking out from each filled table at the bar. There was Davenport, standing on a stool at the bar, clapping wildly, clearly delighted he’d been able to sing the wordless song. There was Killian, slapping one hand against her thigh as she lifted up a huge mug of ale. There was Boyland, trying to hide a smile behind his bushy beard, clapping slowly from his lone position in a booth at the back. There was Carey, and there was Leon, and there was Robbie, and there was, even, Garfield, smirking and flashing a thumbs up as he dashed out the back door.

Avi smiled at Johann and gestured for him to stand. Looking almost dazed, he did. He glanced around. He bowed, and the clapping got louder.

“This isn’t no one,” Avi said over the sound. Maybe it was the brandy, maybe it was the power of a bard’s song, or maybe it was seeing his friend in anguish, but he felt he had something that needed to be said, and he was going to say it. And he was going to say it loudly. “We aren’t no one, Johann.” He gestured at the bar and the base as a whole. “We are the people fighting to keep the world down there from destroying itself, we are the ones who fight day in and day out to keep them safe. Yeah, sometimes it stinks when you pull the lever and shoot your friends down to the surface, knowing you might not see them again and wishing you could be more than an overpaid skeet launcher, and it blows when you’re right and they don’t come back or they turn against you, and it sucks when we all get together to remember them or whatever and then erase them from the world and pretend it doesn’t terrify all of us but…”

His mouth had gotten more and more dry as he’d rambled, so Avi reached down and chugged the glass of water, giving himself a moment to think about how he was going to end his tirade. He wasn’t sure, even after thinking about it. He pressed on. “But we aren’t no one, Johann. And we need your music. We love your music. I’m a simple dude, and far be it from me to get high and mighty but…Don’t you think we deserve it more than anyone else? I’m outta line, I know that, sorry bud, but we need that music, and you’re doing us a great service.”

Avi reached across the table to grab Johann’s shoulders roughly, giving him a shake. He grinned. “We’re somebodies, all of us. I’m gonna sober up in a little bit and get all embarrassed about this, but for right now I feel fucking fantastic and Johann? I need you to know. I need you to know we couldn’t do this without you.” He grinned tightly and squeezed Johann’s shoulders. He was about to let go when Johann grabbed his forearms and held him in place. He wasn’t very strong, but Avi wasn’t trying very hard. When Johann spoke, his words were so quiet they were almost lost to the constant hum of the energy keeping the base afloat.

“Thank you, Avi.”

Avi grinned wider and nodded, patted Johann’s shoulders, and sat, waving for another brandy, hoping to stave off that embarrassment a little longer, even at the risk of a hangover the next day.

In the years following the Day of Story and Song, he found himself bitter about the three heroes who saved the day. Not them really, he thought highly of them now, but the number was too low. There hadn’t been three heroes that day. There had been an uncountable number of heroic acts and sacrifices, and an unknowable amount of pain and anguish and fear. But they had won. Just like Johann had said.

And everyone remembered.

**Author's Note:**

> I was knee deep in dirt today when I decided I needed to write this.  
> [You can reblog it here!](https://rich-ramblings.tumblr.com/post/175144453361/theres-magic-in-a-bards-song-richramblings)


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